Something Very Special
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: What if Padme's funeral dress had a different meaning behind it? What if she'd had it made for something else entirely? The six times the dress was laid eyes on throughout it's existence before it's first and final use.


The first time the dress was ever seen, Anakin Skywalker climbed out of his ship, excitement rushing through his blood, into the spacious apartments he and Padme shared, only to find his wife perched high on a stool between the two couches, hands on her waist, surrounded by small droids and pools of blue fabrics. They seemed to be measuring, sewing and whizzing around comparing materials for her to choose from… He'd seen Padme measured for those custom gowns of hers in the past, but there was never this much fuss.

"Well, _this_ was not quite the welcome home I'd envisioned…"

At once her head turned to face him, face brightening into that smile of hers, the one that threatened to tear his heart asunder with its sweetness, and the same excitement he felt, mirrored obviously in her face. He didn't _have_ to sense these things from Padme, her face was always wore the truth in its features. Anakin watched as she lifted the blue material high above her feet to step down from the stool, and began running across the room into his open arms. Three droids squealed angrily in response to her leaving the stool but the couple paid them no mind as they held one another. Padme threw her arms around his neck and he held her close, spinning them around playfully… Six hours in hyperspace alone with only R2's company were a price he was happy to pay to be here with her tonight. He'd longed to have her in his arms since he saw her last after the destruction of Malevolence… And now here she was peppering his face with kisses, murmuring greetings and love words against his skin. Thankfully, he had no new injuries, well his face at least. There could be peace between them, until at least she discovered the burn on his leg later, then, there'd be a full inquisition. Until then, he'd enjoy the moment. Burying his face in her hair, Anakin inhaled the sweet floral scent that accompanied her everywhere, eyes closing tightly in his contentment. At last, he was _home_ …

"Oh Anakin… If I'd known you were coming, I would have prepared everything! There would be a real welcome ready for you…" As she spoke, Padme pulled away glancing over her shoulder at the droids still fussing with materials behind them. He can sense her disappointment easily without looking at her face, her fear of _his_ disappointment… At once, he cupped her cheek, black leather creating a striking contrast to her milky skin, and smiled. She couldn't disappoint him even if she tried to … Merely being in her presence after so long apart was enough to soothe his tortured soul. Sometimes he feared the council would never bring him back from his missions, instead sending him further and further from her waiting arms. His dream of mastery of the Force wasn't worth the separations from her, if he couldn't have Padme by his side, what was the point? She was his balance, his light, his Angel… Without her, he was nothing. His life wouldn't be worth living if not for her. He'd leave the Order and never look back if she asked it of him.

"It's alright my love…" Brushing his lips against hers, Anakin slid his fingers through Padme's soft curls, watching as her eyes fluttered shut. How had he captured the heart of something so… Pure? She was an Angel sent to keep him sane, Anakin swore it. It was the thought of his return to her that drove him on, she was his first waking thought and his last at night. "I don't need elaborate welcomes… As long as you're here, I'm happy. Now tell me, what're you doing here?" Looking at the droids, Anakin's curiosity lit. It didn't take six droids to create a simple gown; usually she only had one or two for these things, that much he _did_ remember.

"Well…" Padme stepped away from him, untangling herself from him, looking around at the layers of material covering the couches before meeting his eye with a small, almost shy smile, one that set his adoration soaring to new, undiscovered heights. "Well, I was thinking, when the war ends and everybody knows… About us… We should do something special. Something with all of our friends and my – with _our_ family – there. Perhaps renew our vows? Reaffirm our love for those who love us to see…"

"That's…" Trailing off, Anakin searched for the correct words to offer her. She seemed nervous about this; as if there was part of her that thought he wouldn't like the idea. He'd met her parents, her sister, more than once, though never as more than her Jedi protector. Each meeting was more painful than the last, especially as he got to know the Naberrie family more. The pretence that these people were nothing more than friendly acquaintances and not the only true family he had left slowly chipped away at Anakin's heart. And worse, to fake a merely platonic friendship with his _wife_ … The lies were too heavy for his tired shoulders. "…Wonderful… They should share in our love… But that doesn't explain what's happening here?"

Padme merely laughed, stepping back up onto the stool, and at once she was surrounded by the droids as she was when he arrived. Shrugging off his long robe, Anakin tossed it onto an empty chair nearby and braced his weight against his forearm on the wall watching as she chose between two variations of the same colour… He swore by the Force, he would never understand fashion. "I wanted to _have_ something, something for that day… Something I can see, and touch, to remind me that one day soon, we'll be free to love each other openly. What could be better for that, than the dress?"

Stalking toward her, Anakin reached down for the HoloPad, filled with designs and little notes about the dress she planned to make. She'd put a lot of thought into this… And he couldn't say it wasn't a nice idea. Having a small reminder of what was to come for them, one day…

"It looks like a waterfall or a lake…" The long flowing underdress she'd designed was a stunning blue, the like of something he'd only seen a handful of times in Naboo, and a heavy cloak slightly darker, reminded Anakin of subtle waves across a calm ocean. If she weren't a senator, his wife's talents could be used in gown-making. She had an eye for these things that most women did not. And this… It was the pinnacle. She was brilliant. Already Anakin couldn't wait to see her wearing it, couldn't wait until the day would come where she _could_ wear it.

" _Exactly!"_

* * *

The second time eyes were laid on the dress came a year later, when Sabe sifted through the gowns hanging in her lady's wardrobe, searching for the perfect evening wear for her meeting with senator Clovis. A night at the opera and then political talks through dinner required her mistress to look spectacular. Regal even. Not that Padme ever looked anything other than regal. Every inch of the woman was graceful. Gown after gown was rejected within the woman's mind, not suitable, too short, not formal enough, _too_ formal… Until there it was, in the very back, Sabe was almost afraid to touch it, it was so beautiful. Glittering blue and light with a heavy cloak for both warmth and simply for the striking look, Padme would look like she a water nymph wherever she went. The deep blues against her skin would make her mistress glow! Why had she never seen this gown before? Surely, it was far too beautiful to be left forgotten at the back of the wardrobe? This was a gown fit for a Queen!

Carefully, the handmaiden lifted the gown from its confines, surprised by the weight, it was far heavier than she'd expected. It was simply stunning! She'd never seen anything quite like it… Padme would certainly catch the eye of the HoloNews reporters looking for their front page shots! Especially since she was on the arm of _Clovis_ of all people… What would _Anakin_ think? Well, it wasn't her place to wonder such things, was it? Her mistress was a smart woman; she must know what she was doing… Even if Sabe couldn't for the life of her understand…

"Oh no, not that one Sabe!" The mistress in question sped across the room, dropping the HoloPad she'd been reading from onto the pale yellow couch carelessly, and gently took the dress into her own hands. The way Padme held the garment so carefully, so _lovingly_ caught Sabe's attention… She acted as if it was something sacred. But was only a dress and cloak… Dressed only in her purple tweed robe, and hair still wet from using the fresher, Sabe supposed Padme had only just begun preparing for the night ahead rather than an hour ago as she was supposed to. Perhaps she wasn't as eager for this meeting as Sabe had assumed earlier?

"I'm sorry my lady… I just thought it was far too beautiful to be wasted. I'm sure senator Clovis would appreciate it…" Perhaps she was out of line, but Sabe couldn't resist the gentle gibe. Though the warning look Padme gave her in return was more than enough to quieten her on the subject entirely. She didn't wish to discuss it, it seemed. Still, Sabe sensed there was something happening… And it didn't feel right. Well, she was here to serve her lady, and if she didn't want to speak about it, then they wouldn't.

"This is for… Something _very_ special." Sabe watched Padme place the gown back where it had come from, pausing, almost wistfully to simply run her fingers over the heavy fabric for a moment. She wondered what exactly this _special_ event was, that warranted such a beautiful gown to be kept unused until it arrived. Part of the woman wanted to ask what _was_ special enough for the dress… But Sabe knew Padme better than that. There would be no answers tonight. The weight of all those secrets she kept surely grew heavier and heavier every day? Sabe could see it; the effects living such a lie were having on her mistress. And it wasn't anything good.

"I see milady…"

* * *

The third time the dress was seen was once more by Anakin, on leave from the war, lay lounging on the couch, arms resting behind his head as Padme picked up his long discarded robe from the floor with an amused sigh. The Jedi may have taught her husband many things; however tidiness apparently was not one of them. Threepio was on his last nerve with him already and it was great fun to watch the pair bickering. The door of the wardrobe slid open after perfectly manicured fingers pressed the button. Reaching inside, Padme pulled out a hanger and carefully placed the robe upon it, watching him look out at the passing ships. When was the last time he got to simply relax and let his guard down like this? Knowing how little he was able to rest kept Padme from grumbling about the trail of mess he left in his wake all over the apartment. Still, she couldn't resist a gentle gibe or two. How would she keep him on his toes otherwise?

"With such an understanding of technology, ships and something as inconceivable as the Force, I would have thought you'd have the ability to work something as simple as a hanger my love."

Anakin lazily turned to face her, amusement dancing inside his eyes as he sat up fully, legs swinging to rest once more against the floor. "Oh I can work them alright, but if I put _everything_ away, what else would there be for you to do?"

Padme's jaw slackened as outrage momentary blinded her senses… He simply _could not_ be serious? How _dare_ he?! She almost dropped the robe herself, she was so affronted. Indignation flooded through her veins, heating her blood, rendering her unable to do anything other emit a furious puff of air and blink. Just _who_ did he-

Anakin's laughter pierced Padme's incensed thoughts and immediately she felt like a fool… Of course he was just toying with her. He did so often it was a wonder she believed a word that left his lips! Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to the idiot, hanging his robe amongst her gowns a little too roughly. She should throw the damned thing at him and leave him to pick up after himself! The stupid teasing… _Nerf herder!_ Oh, she had a mind to smack away that smirk she was _so sure_ was already placed perfectly on his face. His laughter caught her attention again, closer this time, just a moment before strong arms snaked their way around her waist and lips pressed a kiss below the curve of her jaw. He would _not_ win her around quite so easily.

"You think you're _so_ clever…" She muttered, reaching out to adjust the placement of one of her more formal gowns, she liked them to stay near the back, whilst her lighter, more casual attire waited at the very front. Anything to keep her arms busy at the moment. Otherwise she may just smack him after all! That's when she saw it… The stunning blue was alike nothing else she owned, it almost glowed in comparison to the other dresses hanging alongside it. At first, the mere sight of the garment had brought such joy to Padme, a sense of hope for things to come that was unrivalled by anything else in her life, and yet as time went on, and the war showed no signs of coming to any end – peaceful or otherwise – that joy, the hope… It faded into longing. And longing soon became sadness. Two years passed since she'd had the dress commissioned, and yet still the opportunity to wear it had not come. They still lived a lie, and piece by piece it was destroying them, just as she'd predicted before their marriage. It was Anakin, rather than Padme whose hands had frozen where they were, who reached out, gloved fingers grazing the soft material, and she choked on a breath. Surely he must feel the same way? After all, he too hoped for peace just as much as she did. For an end to the fighting so they could be together freely at last. Reaching for the hand resting against her stomach, Padme rested her own over it, leaning back against him. They couldn't lose hope… Not now, not ever. If they did, what was the point of it all? Without hope, they were living nothing but a pretence. And they were _so much_ more than that. Their lives would be so much more than that, one day.

One they they'd be more than the Jedi Knight and the Senator. They'd be a _family_. _Husband and wife._ They would be free.

"The day I see you wearing this will the second happiest of my life." He whispered, releasing the dress and wrapping his arm back around her waist, their arms tangled hopelessly, and through the sadness, and the glimmer of hope, Padme felt _content._ She could stand like this for a lifetime and never wish to pull away and Anakin felt the same, that, she knew for a fact. If she closed her eyes, it was easy to pretend they were in Naboo once more, by their balcony facing the lake; no worries or troubles… Only them and their love.

"Only the second?"

The quiet laugh her husband emitted was muffled as he pressed a kiss to her crown, she felt the rumble of his laughter against her back and it forced a weak smile of her own to appear. Reaching out, Padme closed the wardrobe, and turned in his arms, leaning her head against Anakin's chest. The moment had to end eventually, but they'd stretch it for as long as possible. Until the war came to an end, they were living on borrowed time. Stealing moments together that didn't belong to them, hiding their feelings and enduring rapidly lengthening separations. Sometimes, it felt as time was running out. As if suddenly their time would be cut short and taken from them before either of them could realise what was happening.

For now, she simply closed her eyes and felt Anakin's arms wind around her waist once more, and hope their love was enough to pause time, just for a moment.

* * *

The dress was viewed again by Sabe mere months later, surrounded by black and tears. With shaking hands the handmaiden – could she even call herself that now? – looked through the gowns once more in her mistress' wardrobe as she had so many times before, countless times really. However, now… Each gown she passed sent wave after wave of grief tearing its way through her battered heart. Padme wore that one to make her speech about banking interest rates in the senate, that one for a Republican party, that for a meeting with the Queen at home in Naboo… Each garment held some memory of the woman who'd been her friend for so many years.

And she'd never wear any of them again.

Despite the group of women filling out the spacious apartments, it had never felt emptier to Sabe. It felt wrong… To be here, when Padme wasn't with them. To be here _knowing_ Padme would never be here again. Sabe would never walk into the place to see her mistress staring intently at her HoloPad, or pacing the length of the room practicing some speech or another… Or see husband and wife, sharing their life together behind closed doors. The mere thought of _him_ drew her attention away from the wardrobe and out, toward the Temple… The smoke had long cleared and yet the sight of it still sent shivers tearing through her. So much slaughter… So much _death_. And none of it made any sense. There had been no publishing of the names fallen Jedi, no list she could check… She wanted to believe he was alive, that he'd managed to survive the brutality and yet, if he had… He would have come. Padme's… Passing… It would have drawn him from whatever hiding he'd been forced into. She knew it would.

The simple fact was Anakin Skywalker was gone. Just like her mistress.

Both gone, both lost…

And the _child_ … She'd worked so hard finding gowns and cloaks to hide Padme's pregnancy, and it had worked. Nobody knew. Not even her own mother or sister… Until they'd seen the… Body that was. Tears stung Sabe's eyes, clouding her vision and for a moment, it felt as if she may collapse under the weight of her grief. Padme would have been a wonderful mother… Sabe knew it. She was a natural with children; she'd seen her with Sola's children enough times. And she'd never even gotten a chance to…

Force, if there was a person who did not deserve to pass so soon, it was her mistress.

Turning her attention back to the gowns, Sabe paused, eyes catching sight of the brilliant blues hidden away at the very back. She'd forgotten all about this… Simply looking at it, Sabe couldn't bring herself to touch it. Whatever Padme had planned for it, she'd never gotten around to doing it. It was all so unfair. There was so much ahead of her mistress, the continuance of her marriage, motherhood, her career and whatever else she wanted… So much potential… And now, here they were, selecting what she would wear for her _funeral_ of all things.

There was no justice in this world, Sabe swore it. How could there be when such… Atrocities were allowed to happen?

"What's this one?" The voice of Jobal tore Sabe from her thoughts as the grieving mother approached the wardrobe. Every inch of the woman radiated sadness, as if someone had torn her very heart from her chest and crushed it in their palm. Sabe couldn't imagine it, the horror of losing a daughter… And in such circumstances too. How much had this woman _really_ known about Padme? About the marriage? The baby? She suspected nothing at all… Well, she would not betray her mistress's secrets. She hadn't while Padme lived, and she certainly wouldn't now. Some secrets were simply meant to remain secret.

Reaching inside the wardrobe, Sabe lifted the gown with all the gentleness Padme once had, and laid it delicately across the long couch for Jobal to inspect. This was the one… After all Padme deserved to look as regal in her rest as she had while living, and how better to achieve that than the look of calmly floating along water? Her grandmother, in charge of planning the funeral, would surely approve. After all, Padme had designed the piece herself. Nothing else would do her the justice she deserved.

"She was saving it for something very special…"

Her words drew a choked sob from the woman beside her and Sabe lifted a hand to cover her own mouth… By the Force, none of this felt real! How could it be that she was just _gone_ … Here one day and gone the next? Sabe hadn't gotten to say goodbye… If she could only see Padme one last time…

"There's something else." She spoke without thinking, instinct simply taking over and drawing the words from her lips. If she was to prepare her beloved friend for an eternal rest, then by the force Sabe would do it right. She was the only one here who _truly_ knew what Padme might want, who knew all she'd been hiding from the world. Not her mother, or sister or grandmother… None of them knew Padme like she had. And she could not in good conscience send her lady, her _friend_ off without her most beloved possession. What kind of a friend would she be, if she held back her knowledge just because it might be easier? Because there would be less questions?

One who would never be able to live with herself.

Shaking fingers prized open the top drawer of Padme's dresser, reaching to the very back and producing the small black box inside. Ornately carved with curving patterns from top to bottom, it was a beautiful possession, but not as beautiful as what lay inside. Flipping the box open, Sabe's breath caught in her throat as she saw them… The two items Padme had loved most in this world. They rested on plush red velvet cushioning, as if they were priceless treasures too precious for the world to see. And to Padme, Sabe believed, they were. Master Skywalker's long, thin, severed Padawan braid, and the small japor snippet. A small trinket, yet something that meant the _world_ to her lady. She knew Padme enough to know she'd want it with her. Forever…

Gently lifting the snippet, Sabe presented it to Jobal, fighting back yet another wave of tears. No, she must remain calm. She had to oversee the organisation of Padme's belongings and ensure nothing important was lost from the ignorance about the lady's life. She'd need her wits about her; there would be many questions to deflect this day. She'd already had to deny the grieving family the knowledge of who'd fathered their daughter's lost child. Sabe had to be strong… Padme's secrets would remain just that for as long as she lived.

"This was… It was given to her a long time ago by someone special. She'd want to have it with her."

* * *

Although the sun had long since set over Naboo, the streets were illuminated by countless lanterns and candles carried by mourners as the progression made its way through Theed. Citizens, royalty and senators alike gathered to mourn the once Queen of Naboo. This was when the dress was viewed for the second last time.

It seemed to all who'd gathered, that the entire planet fell silent in respect of the woman who'd fought so hard to preserve its rights and people. The woman who'd saved them from the Trade Federation… The carriage, open for all to see the late senator, moved slowly, allowing mourners who walked behind it to keep in pace. All who saw her were reminded of the beautiful lakes their planet sported and yet, nobody knew the true story of the gown.

Nobody thought to ask.

Any whispered questions about the senator and her private life were quickly hushed in respect as she passed, peaceful and still and every bit as beautiful as she'd been in life. On and on she floated, as if carried by water itself through the silent streets, followed by a procession of hundreds, friends, family, staff, political allies… She was beloved by them all at one time or another.

Naboo's tabloids and HoloNews had always been filled with the exploits of their brave senator, almost always complementary of her if slightly more focused on the personal aspects of the lady's life rather than the great work she did. Something that was now, highlighted wonderfully in memoriam. Padme Amidala was beloved to the people of Naboo and it was proven as the sea of mourners seemed endless to anyone who looked around, as if everyone, even the Gungans, had come to pay their respects alongside Representative Binks.

However to one handmaiden, clad entirely in black walking silently among Padme's friends and family behind the Queen, there seemed to always be an empty space, filled by the ghost of the husband no one knew of, by the one lost soul who had more right than any to mourn tonight.

* * *

In the dead of night, the only sound that could be heard was the thunder of heavy boots and loud, mechanical breathing. A dark figure walked alone through the empty streets of Theed, never pausing to admire the towering statues, the breath-taking views the city had to offer. The figure marched on, cape blowing behind him in the gentle night breeze. It was late, no one would disturb him; and if they did, they would be dealt with accordingly. It had been a long time since his last visit to Naboo. Nothing had changed… It remained preserved, as if nothing in the galaxy had changed in these past weeks.

A single swipe of his hand sent the two human guards into unconsciousness, falling to the floor and hitting their heads with distasteful _cracks_ , yet he paid them no mind, stepping over their still bodies and continuing on his path inside. It was only then, once inside, did he hesitate. What would he find? The mausoleum had only been standing a few days… Everything about it was unaged, untouched by the outside world and its troubles. Was just anyone allowed to enter? Or was it a more… Private mourning place?

One more deep, mechanical breath and he stepped inside fully.

The very first thing that caught his eye, even through the mask, were the large stone vases, filled with the brightest flowers he'd seen in a long time, resting on columns taller than himself. Someone had to visit regularly to keep the plants alive, and replace them when they perished. Good. He wouldn't want her to be alone. Behind the columns was a sight that, if it were possible, would have stolen the breath from his weak lungs. It was… _Her._ Or at the very least, her likeness captured perfectly in the stained glass of the window. High above the floor, the window depicted her as the Angel he'd always thought she was. Surrounded with flowers and golden spirals and tones of blue in such a way that he supposed in the light of day, she must glow with the sun.

If he could only see it with his own eyes – his _true_ eyes.

With this, her beauty would be eternal.

He turned slowly, momentarily forgetting about the window as the large grey marble sarcophagus came into his view… And there it was, the final resting place chosen for her. Strange, that her grandmother hadn't followed Naboo's customs for the deceased. Yet he was grateful. Of course, the crest of Naboo was carved into the top and he knew, she would never have had it any other way.

For a moment, he lifted his hand, covered completely by long black gloves, and rested it on the cold slate. It was his fault… He'd lost control and she was gone. It was _his_ fault. She should be with him, ruling by his side… He would have made her see it was the right course for them eventually. They would have brought peace to the galaxy at last, just as they'd always wanted! It was all Obi-Wan's fault. He'd poisoned her against him. It was _his_ fault he was disfigured and crippled rather than young and strong as he should be!

He was _ruined_ , weakened… More machine than man. And it was all _Obi-Wan's fault_.

Overcome by the anger, the red-hot hatred flowing through him, he barely noticed the entire mausoleum shaking until dust fell from the stone ceiling and onto the sarcophagus, coating it in the grimy substance. At once, he quelled his thoughts and focused instead on remaining calm. This place would not be ruined. Not by him.

Not by anyone.

Once calm, he focussed his attention once more on her resting place, reaching out to push at the heavy marble slate sealing her within. With all his strength he pushed, yet it did not move… Just weeks ago, he would have been able to ease the whole thing off without breaking a sweat! And now he was reduced such weakness. With a frustrated growl, he lifted his arms, focussing, and at last the marble lifted, rising high above his head and remaining there.

It was then, that Lord Vader saw the dress for the final time. The mere sight would have torn a choked sob from his throat if it were possible anymore. She wore the gown that was meant for the renewal of their vows, the garment that had held so much hope for them both… What kind of cruel joke was this? Was this destiny's punishment for him?

He'd once told her seeing her wear that gown would be the second happiest day of his life… And now, the sight of her made his legs crumble beneath him, and he fell to his knees before her. He should have seen her wearing this on the day their lives became theirs at last, to share with those they loved and who loved them. On the day her family acknowledged him as part of them… When they were at last freed from hiding their love from the world. And now… Now he was forced to see her wearing all their hopes and dreams in death.

And it was his fault.

He'd killed her… Choked the life from her lungs and robbed the world of her light for an eternity.

His master was right all along… Vader had doubted him because he was _sure_ he'd felt her alive, felt the life of their child still strong… But she was gone. Pulling himself to his feet, Vader peered once again at the peaceful face of his beloved… She looked like she was merely sleeping. He wanted to believe that. Wanted to shake her until she awoke from her slumber to hold him, to murmur his name and bring his hand to her belly to feel their child kicking. A single hand reached out, grazing his knuckles along her cheek as he'd done so many times in the past, yet now there was no smile in return for his gesture. No movement… She was gone. The hand moved, lower, pausing as he saw what she held in her hands… The japor snippet he'd carved for her all those years ago… She held it with her even in death. Such a small trinket of his love for her, even as a child, and it had meant the world to his love. The sight of it in her cold hands made his own hand clench tightly. She deserved better than to have an eternal memory of him with her. She'd always deserved so much better.

His hand finally moved, to the swell of her stomach, where she'd carried their child so lovingly, touching her gently, though the thick material of the dress. He would have loved the child with every fibre of his soul… Secretly, he'd wanted a girl. A beautiful little girl, just like her mother. His master had spoken the truth, he'd killed her… Murdered his own _child_.

 _His fault._

"Goodbye, my love…"

At once, the marble slate carefully fell where it had been before, and Vader stepped back. This was indeed goodbye. He wouldn't return, not to mourn her, nor even to thoughts of her… Tonight he left Anakin Skywalker behind in the mausoleum. He was no longer that man. Anakin Skywalker would never have sinned as he had… Here lay all of Anakin Skywalker's hopes and dreams, everything he'd ever fought for and wanted… Without them, how could there _be_ an Anakin Skywalker? Without _her_ he was nothing. His wife, his child, gone… What else was there to fight for? Everything that had made him Anakin no longer existed, his mother, the Jedi Order, his friendship with Obi-Wan, his love for Padme, their child… All gone. _He_ was gone.

Here stood Lord Vader not Anakin Skywalker. Apprentice to Darth Sidious and that was the way it was always supposed to be. Unlike Anakin who'd felt too passionately and wholly, Vader felt _nothing_. Nothing for anyone, emotion was a weakness he did not have. There was no mercy, no fear or anger or grief… Or Love.

Anakin Skywalker was dead. He no longer existed and never would again.

It was as it should be.


End file.
